


Hi Yeah, Sorry For Making U Worry, I’m Not Dead

by RandomFanfictions



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Makoto, Hurt/Comfort, Spoilers for trigger happy havoc, byakuya togami is a good friend, everyone cares about makoto, wholesome minus the gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 19:57:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21124376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomFanfictions/pseuds/RandomFanfictions
Summary: Spoilers for Chapter 6 of Trigger Happy Havoc.Makoto was voted as the blackened and was forced to face execution. The others believe him to be dead and are surprised when Kyoko arrives, Makoto hanging to her limply as if he were a recently revived corpse.Basically, what if Makoto didn’t come out of that execution unscathed. Featuring: everyone being the best friends possible to Makoto because he deserves it.





	Hi Yeah, Sorry For Making U Worry, I’m Not Dead

**Author's Note:**

> ive had this finished for a while, i just finally posted it. im barely in the first chapter of the second game so beware, i might post more fics for danganronpa.

Makoto was found guilty of the murder of Mukuro. He found himself strapped to a desk, moving backwards on a conveyor belt that would lead to his imminent death. Makoto was innocent, but Monokuma didn’t care. All he wanted was despair, and despair is what he got. That is, until Alter Ego lit up a screen, shutting off all the machinery and ultimately saving Makoto from being squished to a pulp. 

Following his failed execution, fell at _least_ forty feet to who knows where. All he could do was shut his eyes tightly as he waited for the inevitable crash. Makoto was unconscious on impact. When he finally came to who knows how many hours later, he found himself in a pool of blood. Most of it coming from the back of his head, but still a decent amount coming from his leg; sharp metal piercing the meat of his thigh from the way he landed. Using his arm to sit up proved a broken wrist; so far things weren’t looking good. Still, he was able to escape, using torn strips of his jacket to wrap up his injuries. 

Makoto knew falling from the height he did would be deadly, so Monokuma had undoubtedly assumed such and felt no need to drag him out for round two. Which—to be fair—Monokuma wouldn’t be totally wrong. 

Makoto did a search around the room, hunched over and limping as he stumbled from one place to another. After spending a few minutes searching, he found there was no clean food or water anywhere. 

Perfect. 

Giving into the pain, Makoto sat down on a cleared section of ground. In the back of his mind, he knew he couldn’t let himself fall asleep. The nausea and dizziness was enough to know he was certainly concussed. If he were to fall asleep in this state, _especially_ with the amount of blood he’s lost, it was almost guaranteed he wouldn’t wake back up. (Thanks health class for that helpful lesson.)

Right now, all he had to do was hope Kyoko knew what she was doing and save him. She’s yet to let him down and he fails to think she ever will. The only door in the room had to be locked otherwise they would’ve found this room sooner. Not to mention the lack of cameras. Kyoko has the master key—she had to come save him. He had to keep hope. 

Though he tried his hardest, Makoto found himself drifting to unconsciousness without consent. The dark room became fuzzy and the air around him suffocating. Next thing he knew it, he was out. 

Over the course of time he was stuck down there, he found himself in a restless state between dream and awake. He could never quite grasp onto one or the other. Pain, hunger, and his own strong resolve keeping Makoto from fully drifting away, but his blood loss and lack of energy that kept from staying awake. It was an uphill battle, and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to keep pushing forward. 

Occasionally Makoto forced himself to move, willing his mind to coordinate with his body. In the end, it only resulted in being lightheaded and usually more injury if he collapsed. At this point, there was little he could do for himself—his leg was becoming infected due to the unsanitary garbage, the cut on the back of his head was still bleeding, being split each time his head bowed forward in exhaustion. When thirst had become so painful where he could barely swallow, Makoto stumbled around to find water for the second time. He tripped himself over a scrapped execution machine trying to reach a garbage bag that fell not too long ago. He collapsed straight forward and onto the remnants of the fire truck that killed Celeste. Luckily, compared to Makoto’s broken wrist, the cracking sound of his rib against the hard corner was nothing. 

He eventually slumped back to his spot and sat against the wall, praying for help to arrive. After that little escapade, he didn’t dare walk too close to anything that could hurt him. 

After who knows how long, Makoto awoke from his not-so-resting sleep from the sound of garbage bags being thrown down the shoot. It was normal for things to fall down here. Except these bags sounded a bit heavier than normal. 

The boy blinked open his eyes, trying to clear the fog in his brain to no avail. Four bags sat all but a few feet away. 

Makoto thought idly to himself the bags could very well be a body. Maybe another murder has happened and this was to get rid of the evidence. A more hopeful part of himself asked if it could be supplied that the rest had finally thrown down for him. That they figured it where he was and wanted to make sure he was okay. Whichever it was, he knew he was going to have to check it for anything useful. 

Slowly, he got to his hands and knees—well more like hand and knee. He bit back a groan when he put pressure on his left leg, and there was no way he would risk putting weight on his right wrist, so he mostly crawled over in an awkward caterpillar-like fashion. 

By the time Makoto made it to the bags, black dots were already swirling around his vision. The boy audibly winced, laying down to catch his breath. Makoto could’ve sworn he heard his chest creaking with each inhale. 

Then before he could do anything about it, the largest of the trash bags began to move. Makoto was far too out of it to even muster up any energy to be scared. If someone was going to kill him, then so be it. He was already dying as is. 

A hole was ripped open from inside the bag, a familiar gloved hand pulling it open so she could escape. 

_Kyoko._

Her form barely recognized as Makoto felt everything get fuzzier and fuzzier once again. He felt too hot and too cold at the same time, fever starting to form from infection. 

“Makoto?” She asked, but it was far away. 

“Mako—Makoto!” Kyoko scanned the room, searching for the boy, eyes landing on the half crumpled body laying on the floor. 

She could help but gasp at his form. His skin was nearly gray, sunken cheeks and waxy skin. Dried blood on his forehead and bright pink stains covering his pants and coating his hands. 

Kyoko dropped everything, rushing to his side. Without much thought, she helped him sit up, but did it too fast. His face twisted in pain, a shudder of a breath, and eyes barely fluttering open. Makoto looked to be in an extremely bad state. 

Kyoko had gone down the garbage shoot, it being a considerably smaller fall than the drop Makoto had experienced, seeing that she got fed through a tunnel before dropping down all on her own. Even then, she had thrown a few bags before her to cushion the fall. Makoto had nothing and obviously injured himself badly. 

“Makoto, are you okay?” She asked, concern dripping into her words. 

“K-Kyoko…?” He replied in a strained voice. 

“Indeed. I came here to save you, but I fear I arrived too late.” She was mostly carrying him, resting his top half on her legs as she sat down beside him, hands cradling his head. It felt slippery, meaning the wound on his head was still freely bleeding. His body most likely doesn’t have enough nutrients to heal as fast as it should, and if these injuries have been reopened, it would only take longer for the body to fix it a second time. 

“I brought you some bread and water, but you can have more when we get to the dining room.” She smiled sadly. Makoto’s eyes weren’t even focused. 

“Dining...room?” He slurred. “H-How long ha-ve I been dow-down here?” 

“It’s been a week,” Kyoko feels a guilty pang. She should’ve found him sooner. She shouldn’t have let Makoto down during the class trial. 

“I’m sorry,” the words tumble out before she realized what she was saying, “I have abandoned you and now you’re—“ Kyoko stopped herself short. Her voice broke on the last syllable and she needed a moment to regain composure. 

“You didn’—didn’t abandon me,” Makoto barely chokes out. 

“Yes, I did. And I’m sorry.” The girl takes another good look at him, noticing the way his right hand dangles limply to the side. Broken. Makoto’s shallow breathing would indicate either blood in the lungs or hurt ribs. Seeing that his lips are only pale white, blood hasn’t stained them. 

“I won’t abandon you again.”

The boy’s eyes met hers, and for the first time in probably all four days, he smiled. It wasn’t a big smile or a grin that showed off his teeth, no. It was a small tug of his lips, twisted and hurting, but a true smile nonetheless. Kyoko sighed in relief, smiling with him. 

“Come on, eat something now so you have more strength to leave. We have a journey ahead of us.”

As Makoto ate, taking tentative bites of food between gulps of water, Kyoko explained everything in the past four days. She explained going to Monokuma to demand a retrial. She even explained the memories she had been slowly rediscovering. Kyoko found herself talking more than she had ever done before, whether it was because she finally had her closest friend back, or because Makoto could barely speak and she hated the silence. 

She carried him all the way up until they arrived to the trash room. At first she thought it would be much more difficult, but he barely weighed the same as her—if even that. Well, a week of starvation, dehydration, and constant bleeding can do that to a person. 

When they made it to the open hallway, Kyoko found every nerve in her body wanting to go directly to the nurse. In fact, she even started to change course, Monokuma be damned, but Makoto pulled his arm away from her shoulder and forced himself back. 

“We hav’ to..Mono—Monokuma..” he panted. Although Makoto had more energy from eating something, he was still exhausted from the short distance they walked. And rightly so seeing how much of said energy was being used to heal himself. 

“You’re hurt. It would be best for you if-“

“No. We gotta—I gotta-“ Makoto started to fall forward when Kyoko caught him. Even still, he protested meekly. “We gotta tell him. Before he..”

Kyoko furrowed her brows, worried for the boy. “Fine, then after we’ll get food and take it to the nurse. You shouldn’t be moving too much in this condition.” 

The slight nod of his head was the only confirmation she was going to get. The two then made their way to the gym, then eventually the dining hall. Makoto tried to hold his own weight, limping by doing so, but even so, Kyoko practically carried him all the way over. She could see that he was fighting off the dizziness, optimism burning bright. It was admiring how hard he was trying to live. 

Monokuma even mentioned it. How even in the most desperate times he clung to life.

...Actually, Monokuma said he clung to life like a roach, but Makoto ignored that part so Kyoko thought she would too. 

When they appeared through the double doors, everyone was sitting at the table, pathetically pushing food around with their forks. They were probably too engrossed in their own sadness to even notice the two shuffling in. That is, until Hiro took a glance around and caught sight of them. 

“Makoto?!” His face lit up at once. Soon, the others followed Hiro’s line of sight. 

Hina jumped out of her chair in an instant, followed by the others. Kyoko never thought she’d see even Toko and Byakuya so excited. Well, excited in their own terms. 

“Yo Makoto! What happened to you?” Hiro looked to Kyoko, expecting an answer more from her than the one he was asking. She was about to reply too, when Makoto started to speak. 

“I sur…vived m-my execution,” he tried to laugh, but it was a feeble attempt. 

Hina hovered over Makoto, wanting to help but too afraid of hurting him. “We thought you were dead. How did you survive?”

“Obviously his status as Ultimate Luck has something to do with it.” Byakuya sneered, but it was an ill fitting mask of apathy. He already grabbed the nearest chair for the boy to sit on. 

“Can someone get water and fruit? He hasn’t eaten anything in a week other than some bread I gave him.” Kyoko helped Makoto to the chair. 

“I-I got it!” Toko ran to the kitchen as fast as she could. Kyoko knew one of Toko’s recent books had a character that was left starving for a period of time, so perhaps she knew exactly what to do in this situation. Guess it’s nice to be an author and have a wide variety of information like that. 

“Dude, you look horrible. Should I get something from the nurse?” Hiro once again searched Kyoko’s face for answers. 

“You’ll need to get bandages, a splint, the materials for stitches should be in a small box with a label inside the first aid box. Grab any antibiotics that are available and some pain medication.” Byakuya instantly replies. Taking a knee to get a closer look at the infection underneath the torn fabric of pants. 

“What about me? What should I do?” Hina glanced back and forth between Kyoko and Byakuya. 

“Can you make sure Hiro doesn’t get the wrong medications?” Kyoko supplies. 

Hina immediately perks up, “On it!” She shouts, dashing out of the room. 

“Kyoko, I’m sure you’re close enough to Makoto to know where his things are. Mind if you bring a spare change of clothes? Preferably loose fitting pants if he has no shorts. These disgusting things will only reinfect whatever we clean.” 

For a moment, Kyoko finds herself taken aback. She didn’t expect for everyone to jump in so quickly to help. Especially from Byakuya. That just shows how important Makoto is for them all. It’s been a week; until Makoto had walked through the doors, the others sat in total despair, picking at their food. It was exactly what the Mastermind wanted. 

“I understand.” Kyoko briskly walks out to find some better garments, leaving Makoto to be further inspected by Byakuya. 

“Okay, Makoto. Can you tell me where you’re hurt? I can see most of them, but I need to be sure there aren’t more.” His voice was much kinder than it had ever been. Makoto thought it could have just been the pain that made him hallucinate it. 

“My wrist… ‘nd my leg. Th-They hurt the...the most. ‘Nd my head.” He shut his eyes tightly, moving his uninjured hand to touch each wound. 

“Is there anything else?” 

“Mm.. my ribs. I fell ‘nd hit the cor-ner of something. I thin’...I think I still have bruises from t-tripping.” 

“How did you even get there? It wasn’t a room any of us had seen before.”

“It’s the same place the...uh...th-the garbage shoot leads to. I think I fell forty or fi-fifty feet. Probably more...I-I don’t know. It took me a while to hi-hit the floor.” 

“Jesus,” Byakuya muttered under his breath, turning his head away from the boy. “You fell fifty feet, bled and starved for a week, and you haven’t died. If another day had passed, I’m certain you’d be gone. Bodies aren’t meant to last this long under such conditions. You aren’t the Ultimate Luck, you must be the Ultimate Miracle if anything.” 

Before Makoto could think up a response, Toko ran out of the kitchen, a tray in hand. 

“I b-brought some wet to-towels. To clean up so-some of the...blood.” She winced at the word. 

Makoto knew he had a bunch of dried blood all over, but maybe it was because it was dry rather than wet that Toko could tolerate it a little bit more. After all, Genocide Jack hasn’t made a return yet. 

“Thank you, Toko.” Byakuya took the tray and placed it on the table parallel to Makoto. The tray had an assortment of cut up fruit, such as apples, bananas, melon as well! Makoto couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that his friends cared so much. Toko had even gone through the effort of getting a smoothie. 

“Thank you,” he gave her a small smile, wishing he could fully express his gratitude. 

“I th-thought maybe y-you wouldn’t be a-able to keep down solids. S-So I brought you a smoothie too.” She stared at the ground, wringing her hands. “Make sure you don’t eat too fast!” She then added quickly, shooting a warning look. “Sometimes if you’ve gone so long without eating, a sudden amount of food can make you get really sick.” 

He nodded, feeling a lump in his throat form. Makoto wasn’t used to being fussed over this much. Byakuya handed him the drink while he reached for the towels and Makoto took an experimental sip. 

“If it’s bad, I-I can just throw it away.” Toko panicked as he drank, but Makoto simply made a noise of refusal. 

“It’s good,” he choked on emotions, “tha-thank you.”

It looked like Byakuya was about to ask if something was wrong when Hina and Hiro arrived, carrying what was probably way more gauze than was actually needed. 

“I didn’t know how much you asked for so I brought it all,” Hiro gave a cheesy grin, dropping it all on the table with a _plunk_. 

“Also I ran up to the chem lab to get some protein because Sakura always said it helped with injuries.” Hina beamed. 

“I don’t think that’ll work,” Byakuya states flatly, much to Hina’s confusion. 

“Why? What’ll happen?” 

“In most cases of malnourishment, the body can’t break down protein. It needs softer foods that are easy to digest. Thus the fruit Toko brought.” 

“Oh,” Hina’s face dropped. She turned to give another look at Makoto and he could practically see her empathy pouring out. “Well when he’s used to eating again, then he can have some. Right?” 

“Correct.” Kyoko appeared, placing a stack of clean clothes on the table, adding to the clutter. 

“Alright. You’re lucky I studied first aid with my family’s personal paramedic.” Byakuya carefully wiped away the caked on blood on his forehead, making his way over to the poorly wrapped bandage on Makoto’s head. 

“I’m going to clean and _properly_ bandage your head, but I’ll probably have you move to the bathhouse so I can really look at your leg and insure you don’t have any other injuries elsewhere. I’m sure you prefer privacy for that.”

“Y-Yeah.” He held his breath as the cut got cleaned. The sting of rubbing alcohol making him grit his teeth. 

The others could only stand helpless as they watched Makoto make the softest sounds possible. It was apparent that he was in so much pain, he couldn’t muster up the energy to even complain at this point. 

“It’s okay, Makoto! You’re doing great!” Hina tried to encourage him, but all it did was make a single tear roll down his cheek as he tried hiding his face with a free arm. 

“Hina, yo! What did you do?” Hiro turned to her with hands on his hips. 

“I’m sorry! I just wanted to make him feel better!” She flailed her arms, walking backwards. 

“Sh-Sh-Shut up! Makoto is right th-there!” Toko then joined in the argument. “Y-You’re gonna make it w-worse!” 

“I’m sorry! I saw he was in pain and I—“ 

“Will you three be quiet for a second. I’m almost done sewing this up and I need a hand.” 

Kyoko walked over without a second of hesitation, grabbing the bandages that sat on top of the stitching kit. After it had been properly cleaned and unwrapped, she could see how nasty it looked. The cut was probably the length of her pointer finger—at least three inches.

When she remembers the massive pool of dried blood not too far from where she landed, Kyoko knew it had to be an ugly looking thing. 

“Now these bandages are mostly temporary for the time being. I’ll dress it nicer after you clean up, but I’m mostly impressed that you didn’t fracture your skull. The more I think about it, the more likely it is that you should be dead.” 

“I’m glad he’s not,” said Kyoko. 

Makoto sniffled from behind the crook of his elbow. Another teardrop falling from his chin. 

“Do you think Makoto can take the pain meds now? He seems to be hurting real bad.” Hina makes fists with her hands, feeling anxious. 

“H-He can’t have them un-until he eats a little more. Med-Medicine like this can give him s-stomach ulcers.” 

“What? No way, dude!” Hiro stared at Toko.

As they chattered away, Makoto felt more tears fall until the sleeve of his hoodie was soaked. Some of it came from the ache all over his body, but the majority of it was this feeling of relief. He did it—he survived. Makoto didn't give up hope and he’s finally _saved_. He had food right in front of him and friends all around. They cared so much for him that the moment they laid eyes on his weakened form, all of them went about to do everything they could to help. 

Makoto kept telling himself that he would be saved while he was still trapped, but as optimistic as he was, there’s always an underlying feeling of doubt.

Being surrounded by everyone as they bickered over how to help him only made the wall he’s built break. After all the executions, murders, and even a suicide—these people here were his friends and he could _trust them_. He was safe with them now. They were going to confront the mastermind and escape this hellhole. 

“Good. Looks like I got this one fixed up nicely.” Byakuya took a step back to admire his work. “Now then, would you like to continue eating first or we can go now and finish getting all these done.” 

Makoto scrubs his face dry to look at Byakuya. “Sooner is better than later,” he croaks. Something akin to worry flickers over the other boy’s features. 

“Fine then.” Byakuya extends a hand to Makoto. “Do you need help to stand?” 

The boy takes it without trouble. When he stands, putting most of his weight onto the other body holding him up. 

“I can help carry him if he’s too heavy,” Hiro steps forward, but Byakuya waves him off. 

“He weighs about as much as my pinky finger. He’s not heavy at all. Just help me grab the stuff from the nurse’s office and his clothes.” 

“Yessir, dude.”

A few minutes later (with some help), Makoto was stripped down to his underpants, shivering as Byakuya check each bruise for a possible fracture. Makoto’s ribs were the only plausible case, but there was nothing to be done about that. Once Byakuya was satisfied, he moved to the pierced leg. Getting that pant leg off was difficult; Makoto had to bite down on a hand towel as Byakuya practically tore it off. Hiro tried to distract Makoto by telling stories, but it wasn’t the best help. 

“I can’t stitch it up because of the infection, so for now I’ll clean it up to the best of my ability and wrap it to avoid further contamination.” 

Makoto nodded, making a soft cry of pain. 

“I’m sorry for your discomfort.” Byakuya apologized, feeling guilty for being the bad guy, making all these injuries hurt more. however, to make them better, they have to feel worse. That’s how progress is achieved. 

“Hey, at least after this you can finally wash up and wear some nice comfy clothes, huh.” Hiro chuckled. “I bet that’ll feel great.” 

“Ye-Yeah. It’s cold here.” As if on cue, Makoto began shivering again. 

Byakuya sighed, “I can set your wrist after you get cleaned up. It’s actually rather warm here, but I’m sure you’re cold due to a fever. Hopefully when you take antibiotics, that’ll go down and I can stitch this up as well.” 

“Thank you..so much.” He sniffled. 

“No need to get emotional, but I accept your gratitude.” The boy adjusted his glasses. 

“I’ll go set up some clean towels and hot water. Hiro, wait with Makoto here. Clean up if you can.” 

When Byakuya has left the room, Hiro leaned over to Makoto with a sly grin. “Y’know, he’d never admit it, but when Monokuma told us you were dead…he took it the hardest I think.”

“What?” 

“Yeah bro. He was all arguing ‘n stuff with the bear like ‘No, the machine stopped; he’s alive,’ but Monokuma just stuck with his story and wouldn’t give us any more details. After that we were all really gloomy, but he was like.. extra moody.” 

“Y-you really think so?” 

“Oh for sure.” Hiro put his arms behind his head like he was supporting his neck. “Byakuya might say he hates all of us, but I think after your execution he changed a bit. He was always angry when someone was late for our breakfast meetings. Probably was afraid to lose anyone else.” 

“What ‘bout the rest of you guys?” Makoto found himself feeling that same beaming pride of having caring friends. 

“Hina…?” Hiro struggled to find the right words. “She was really angry at first. She thought you actually killed someone, and felt kinda betrayed y’know. But then Kyoko started explaining what happened. She gave us good evidence to believe it was the Mastermind and you had absolutely nothing to do with it. She even told us that you covered for her when she contradicted herself but no one noticed. She didn't say, but apparently only you knew what it was.” Hiro’s face contorted into a mix of horror and guilt. He quickly wiped it away. 

“Anyway, Hina was angry but when she found out everything, she was a mess. She started crying and blaming herself and stuff. She was really upset and would point out all the things you used to do to make us feel better after a murder and execution.

“Oh and then there’s also Toko. To be honest, I can’t really tell with her.” Hiro shrugged, bold enough to look sheepish. “But she moped around more than usual. Same with Kyoko. I don’t think we realized how much you talked to us and how much time we spent with you.”

“What about you then?” Makoto found himself on the edge of his seat, wanting to know more of what happened while he was out. 

“Me?” Hiro shot a surprised look. “Well I know I was hurt for sure. I tried taking over after Taka kinda went..yeah. But when you were gone, I don’t think anyone even wanted to _pretend_ to listen to me. We were all kinda depressed and Monokuma really loved it.” 

“O-Oh.” Makoto waiter a moment before he thought of something else to ask. But as he opened his mouth for the question, Byakuya emerged through the door. 

“Everything is set up if you’re ready,” The boy removes his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves. “You can’t get into the water, naturally, but you can still use the wooden bath buckets to remove the dirt and grime that you’ve built up.” 

“I, uh.” Makoto looks for words through the thick fog of his mind. “I-I think I’ll need some help. I don’t want to… wanna hurt myself.” 

“Of course. I’m sure you wouldn’t really want any of the girls to help—well you might, but it’s not proper—so it’s either Hiro or I.” 

“Actually, I should clean this mess up.” Hiro slips out of his seat and backs away. “Uh, plus I should probably go tell the girls that everything is fine, y’know. Since Makoto was upset earlier and he was practically dying when we saw him.” 

“Is this your attempt at an excuse?” Byakuya quirked an eyebrow. 

“Yep. No offense, Makoto, but I don’t think I can really look at any more blood today. Also my appetite has finally come back so I want to finish my lunch.” He gives the two a half hearted shrug as an apology. 

“I’ll help the others with some stuff though so don’t worry! I’m still being productive!” Hiro lifts both his arms with a thumbs up as he makes an exit. Makoto can only sigh, and shake his head. Which he regrets when he feels the twinge of stitches. 

“Fine then, I’ll help you. Not like I haven’t been already.” Byakuya’s words are meant to be harsh, but the tone doesn’t quite cut it. He was too worried to actually sound annoyed. 

It took a little maneuvering, but Byakuya managed Makoto in a sitting position on the lip of the bath. The water lapped around his calves, warming him up. 

“I’ll take off these wrappings in your head for so I can help you properly wash your hair.” He says as he removed them. Makoto allows himself to indulge in the peacefulness. Shutting his eyes, feeling something comfortable for the first time in seven whole days. Not just burning hunger or aching bruises or throbbing cuts. (Although those remained in the background.) No, Makoto felt warm as Byakuya used handfuls if water to slowly wet his hair. 

“I almost wish there was some type of salon here. Your hair is atrocious,” Byakuya muttered. Makoto couldn’t help himself and laughed. Just a little.

“I apologize if I hurt you, but I’m going to put shampoo in now. I’ll try my best to avoid any stinging.” 

Makoto hummed as a response. This type of exchange continued on as they went. Byakuya would announce whatever he was about to do so nothing came as a surprise. Occasionally, he’d make some kind of snide remark and Makoto would try not to jostle around too much as he chuckled. It was oddly domestic.

“Are you feeling any better?” Byakuya asked after a long stretch of silence. 

“...Yeah. I feel a lot better.” Which was true. He didn’t exactly eat enough food to be full, but feeling some weight in his stomach (however little it was) made him become all the more energized. As things got patched up and he was being treated, he felt himself feel more comfortable. Makoto soon realized just how lonely he was down in the trash room. 

“Good. We were all… very concerned. Especially when we saw you and Kyoko stumbling through the dining hall.” 

“Did I look that bad?” He asked, barely opening his eyes to see Byakuya paused in motion, hunched over the bucket to dunk the wet towel in. 

His eyes glinted with an emotion and Byakuya continued his action without another incident. “You still look bad, but yes. You had blood staining the entire back of your hoodie, and another large stain around your leg. The bright colors were in stark contrast to your ghastly skin. At least now you seem to be getting some color back.”

“Byakuya—“ Makoto started, but he cut himself short. He didn’t know exactly what to say. He didn’t want to be repetitive by thanking Byakuya again, but he felt the urge to do so. “Thanks for worrying.” He eventually settled on the words. It wasn’t entirely generic, but not as expressive as Makoto would’ve liked. 

“You worried us all. You didn’t get crushed, but fell to a place none of us could find. We tried asking Monokuma what happened—for closure, but…” he grimaced. “We didn’t know if maybe you died on impact or if worse things had happened. If you were slowly dying until despair ate you up fully.” 

Byakuya grabbed a nearby towel to start drying Makoto’s hair. “Though I hate to admit it, you really do have a hopeful energy about you. We collectively fell apart when you had disappeared.” Byakuys gave a half exasperated laugh at the sentiment. “Hina mentioned at breakfast yesterday how she thought if you to be the Ultimate Hope as well as Luck.”

Soon, Makoto’s hair was dry enough to bandage his head. Byakuya was careful in applying ointment to prevent major scarring, but he already knew there would be no stopping the jagged cut from becoming a jagged scar. Once his head was wrapped nicely, Byakuya moved to set Makoto’s wrist. Lastly, he checked to insure the leg bandages were as tight as they should be and hadn’t gotten wet while Makoto cleaned himself up. Happy with the results, Byakuya helped Makoto to his feet once more and they moved back to the dressing room to put on the clothes Kyoko provided. 

Waiting by the laundry, the same smoothie Makoto was drinking earlier had been set down. A sticky note attached. The note had a short message to keep hydrated with signatures from everyone. 

“They’re probably off doing something stupid, so you should get dressed before it gets too far.” Byakuya grabs the clothes, aiding the injured boy into them. Not before long, they make their way outside where Hina was waiting pressed against the wall. 

“Oh, Makoto! You look so much better!” She smiles brightly. 

“I think the dirt was making me feel worse,” he tries to mimic her smile but only manages a small crooked grin. 

“Wait, that’s not what I was here for,” she looked around for a second, trying to piece together her actual reason for waiting. “Oh yeah—come check your room! We ended up talking with Monokuma for a sec and he was like, totally okay with us postponing the retrial. He said he had to be fair and let you rest for a bit before we started.” 

“How thoughtful,” Byakuya sneered. 

“Yeah!” Hina cheered, “So we ended up converting your room a bit, hope you don’t mind.” She then lead the two boys over to Makoto’s room, slowing her pace to match theirs. 

When they arrived, Makoto had realized that they moved their mattresses over so his floor was practically all bed. Blankets and pillows were everywhere, a fort right in the middle of it all. 

“W-What’s all this?” 

“Hey, man. We kinda thought that it would be nice if we all hung out like this before the trial. Like a massive sleepover. And also if Monokuma tries something, we’re all together so like, the danger is lower, dude.”

Makoto released himself from Byakuya’s support and jumped forward to give a hug. He ended up getting both Hiro and Hina in one go since they stood so close together, but soon Toko and Kyoko made their way over and it became a group hug. Minus Byakuya. 

“Come on, sour-pus. Get in here!” Hina tried to gesture, but her hands were occupied. 

“Let me put down Makoto’s drink first.” He didn’t bother arguing, knowing it wouldn’t be in vain to do so.

A moment later, they were all huddled in a circle, one big mess of affection. Makoto found himself starting to tear up again, a beacon hope shining through all the darkness. He was really safe and they’d be freed soon. 

“Makoto, are you hurt?” Kyoko cut through, noticing the shake of his shoulders. Everyone pulled back all at once, their arms and hands still touching each other, but leaving enough room to not smother Makoto who was wiping a tear on his shoulder. 

“No, no I’m fine. I just—I’m really happy.” The words came out strangled.

“Aw, dude! We’re happy too!” Hiro laughed. “You had us scared for a while, but like, you’re back now!”

Hina and Toko helped guide Makoto to sit inside the pillow fort. Kyoko ended up moving a couple mattresses in order to make it large enough for all six of them to sit together. It was still a little cramped, each of them touching another one way or the other. In the middle of the friends, they had a box that served as a table where the fruit tray from the dining room had been placed. Someone must’ve brought some more snacks for everyone else because there was an assortment of donuts, chips, and juices available. 

Conversation resumed as usual, but Makoto was too tired to actually take part in it. He ate a few bites of fruit and drank the rest of the smoothie before he was allowed to take any painkillers. Shortly after, Makoto found himself to be drifting off in the warm environment. When the others had taken notice, they could only fondly smile as he slumped onto his side, leaning his head on Kyoko’s shoulder. 

She was careful to keep him from moving too much in his sleep, rubbing circles onto his hand with her thumb. When she had to get up to change her clothes into pajamas, Toko helped her carefully hold up Makoto until someone took the position as his personal pillow. Hina jumped in with no hesitation, already wearing her pj’s. 

As it neared nighttime, Toko has already fallen asleep listening to Hiro recount a funny childhood memory, curled up with a pillow. Kyoko was nodding off as well, barely leaning up against the mattress wall of the fort. Byakuya was the last to close his eyes, weary of Monokuma and the Mastermind that could be lurking nearby. 

By midnight, the only sounds from the room came from the soft snores of six teenagers. They were a tangle of limbs, content in their positions. Waking up the next morning, they had all somehow migrated to becoming a massive clump with Makoto in the center. One arm was splayed across Byakuya’s chest while the other was being hugged by Hina. Toko found herself squished between Hiro and Kyoko. 

It took a minute for them to wake up, clumsily getting their bodies to work again. When the announcement went off for day time, Monokuma also announced all rooms would be unlocked and their time to search had just begun. 

Makoto found himself smiling as the other left the room to change. He decided to put on a clean hoodie from his drawer on top of the t-shirt he slept in. With the aid of crutches Kyoko found in the nurse’s office, Makoto met up with the others and they split up to go look in various locked rooms and meet up before the trial. 

Although things can seem bleak, there’s always hope. Soon, they’d bring light to the world outside full of despair.

**Author's Note:**

> please comment if u liked it!! comments make me happy and give me motivation to write new stories!! and if u have any prompts, go ahead and comment so i might write it!


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